So Perfect
by BlackImprint
Summary: "He was so close, I could almost feel the heat of his body. All I had to do was reach out and touch him."  Companion piece to 'Perfect To Me' - this time from Nessie's POV.  One-shot, set post-BD.  Rated M for language & darker themes.


**A/N – **_Hi everyone - Welcome to Nessie's version of what happened that afternoon! If you haven't read Perfect To Me (Jake's POV), this story will still make sense, but I promise it's better if you read the other one first. :)_

_Cheers  
>~ BlackImprint<em>

_P.S. CarlieCullen, this one's espcially for you! __**^_^**_

**All Twilight characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. The song **_**Fuckin' Perfect**_** and its lyrics belong to P!nk**

Jake was sitting on the floor, leaning up against the side of my bed. His attention was focussed on some drawing that he was working on. He was so close, I could almost feel the heat of his body - all I had to do was reach out and touch him, and I'd feel his smooth, warm skin beneath my fingertips. But I didn't. Instead, I started daydreaming about his strong hands roaming my body, how his muscled torso would feel pressed up against me, how his warm breath would send shivers down my spine as he nuzzled my neck. _Mmmrrrowrrrrr_… I purred silently to myself. Probably just as well my hands weren't anywhere near Jake - he might accidentally get a brainful of something that, for now, was my little secret.

So as usual, I made do with sneaking glances at him. God, he was so beautiful. But also as usual, I pretended to feign disinterest. I'm very complicated like that. Heh he! No, not really – Actually, I'm just a coward. The thought of losing Jake had me so terrified that I had pretty much been in analysis paralysis for months now – ever since I realised I loved him, that I was _in_ love with him. How do you tell your best friend you feel _that _way about him? How do you even start a conversation like that? What if he freaked out and refused to ever have anything to do with me again? But seeing him every day, being this close to him – it was so wonderful, but at the same time it had me so wound up in knots. Ugh, this was frustrating as all hell. Damned if you do, damned if you don't – stuck in my own personal purgatory as it were. I hated this.

"Huhhh…" I sighed.

I saw the corner of Jake's mouth twitch. Oh crap, did I just verbal diarrhoea that internal monologue? I was pretty sure all that stuff was only going on inside of my head. Oh God, I hope it was only all in my head. Uh oh, better make sure, just in case. Mouth shut – check. Hands to self – check. Okay, my dirty little secret was still safe for now. As far as Jake knew, it was just a random sigh and nothing more. Hopefully, anyway. Ahrr crap, I'd better fix this.

Demon Spawn Tip #7 – When faced with a situation that could be construed in any number of ways, nudge it towards one that's least likely to come back and bite you on the ass.

I remembered that Jake and I sometimes played this game where I'd try to get his attention, and he would pretend to ignore me for awhile. Childish, I know, but it was just something we did. I decided to go along with that approach. Not the greatest stroke of genius I'd ever had, but it would do for now.

So I sighed again, "Huuuuhhhhh…." this time, trying to make it more obvious.

I watched for a response. No reaction. Seriously? Now I really wanted some attention. Come _on_, I'm dying over here. Will you just puh-leeez turn around already? I stared at the back of Jake's head, willing him to look at me. Nup, still nothing. Ok, fine, so this little effort was getting me absolutely nowhere.

I rolled over towards him, and started to drape my arms over his shoulders so I could look over them to see what he was so engrossed in. What I saw stopped me in my tracks. Jake was sketching a picture of _me_. The detail was amazing and the picture as a whole was drawn with such care, it took my breath away. He had drawn me before so many times, and this drawing shouldn't have been any different. But it was. The eyes, the hair, the lips – they were all me - but the picture as a whole had a different feel about it. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but it was different somehow – is that how he saw me? As his pencil moved across the paper, it was like every stroke was a caress. I was so mesmerised I didn't realise that my lips were grazing the side of his neck.

Oops.

Demon Spawn Tip #4 - When faced with having to deal with a potentially embarrassing situation, deflect attention away from it by pretending something else is happening.

"Jaaaake, I'm boooooored," I whined. He stiffened. Oh crap, my mouth was still against his skin. So much for deflecting attention away. I thought I'd moved away already, but I must have been so distracted by him I didn't notice that I hadn't. Or maybe deep down I didn't want to move away. I loved being this close to him. I breathed in his delicious scent. He tensed up again. God, I knew it. He didn't feel that way about me. I choked back the hot tears that had now started to well up in my eyes. At least he didn't reject me completely and pull away from me. I didn't think I could take that. I made a mental note to be more careful in future. But since he didn't pull away, for now I'd take what I could get of him. I rested my cheek against the side of his neck, savouring the warmth of his skin against mine. I loved him so much. I wished with all my heart that he would find it in his heart to love me back too. The empty ache in my chest tugged with longing.

"Who sings this?" Jake asked, pulling me out of my reverie. I had been so engrossed in my own thoughts I hadn't realised that a new song had started playing over my iPod speakers.

"P!nk," I smiled at him, grateful to have the attention redirected away from my slip-up. "The song's called 'Fuckin' Perfect."

Her voice belted out the tune -

_Made a wrong turn, Once or twice  
>Dug my way out, Blood and fire<em>

Blood and fire. The words started ringing in my head. The fire he ignited in me flowed through every fibre of my being – it was in my veins, burning, yearning, hungering for him, it was so all-consuming. Jake made everything right in this otherwise wrong world. My thoughts wandered back to a time when my mind was a dark and awful place to be. It was around the time I had found out how, just by being born, I had almost killed my own mother. Who was I kidding anyway? - I _had_ killed her. Before I came into this world, she was a living, breathing, warm-blooded being. Because of me, she was now one of the undead. They had wanted to kill me before I was born. Maybe they should have.

_Bad decisions, That's alright  
>Welcome to my silly life<em>

One particularly bad day, I'd shared my anguish and despair with Jake, but the love I felt for him accidentally escaped through. How could it not, when it coursed through every fibre of my being? It was the silver lining in the stormcloud of my psyche. I had pulled my hand away from him, ashamed to have been caught with my soul so bared, but I think he felt it. He had held me close, his strong, warm arms closed around me in a gesture of comfort. They tightened their embrace, and for a brief fleeting moment, I dared to hope that he might love me too. I may have felt disconnected from the world around me, but I felt so connected to the one who was _my_ world – my Jake.

Which brings me to the issue of this strange, though seemingly normal, existence. Everything appeared so ordinary on the outside, but scratch the surface and lo and behold - a world of monsters and myth was closer than you would think. I myself was a seemingly mythical creature in a seemingly normal world, but living such a mismatched, disjointed, existence. I was so different to everyone around me, I couldn't help but feel sometimes that I was wrong, a mistake, some kind of genetic aberration. I was a hybrid - half-vampire, half-human - but neither truly one nor the other. I didn't really fit comfortably within any particular box. Sometimes I felt like I was nothing, just some displaced, disconnected freak.

In a household of silent vampires, whose movements and abilities defied the laws of physics, I felt so alone sometimes. They were all physically there, but were so strangely silent, swift, cold, and so utterly different from me, it sometimes felt more like I was on the outside looking in, rather than living in the midst of it. In that crowd of cold, silent beings, the only sound that made this otherwise hushed world seem real to me was the thrumming of my own heart, and the steady beat, beat, beat of Jake's. I wondered sometimes - was I really there, or was it just a trick of the mind? And consequently was any of it real – whatever 'real' was? I always thought that reality was such a strange concept, and I wondered sometimes how tenuous my hold on it truly was. I'd often look at everything around me, and feel so disconnected from it. I would see my surroundings and the various individuals and objects that filled it, but what proof was there that they were actually there? Were they just refractions of light, which were read as being 'objects' by my brain, which then in turn told me that I was 'seeing' them? Even if I reached out and touched them, what certainty did I have that what I felt under my fingertips was actually real? Was I really touching anything, or did I just believe it to be so because my mind was telling me to?The only times I had ever truly felt 'real' were when I was with my Jake.

But now I was just rambling again. I put my own inner turmoil aside, and remembered how Jake didn't have it so easy either. I knew he had history with Mom. He had loved her, and I felt a pang of jealousy at the thought. I often wondered if maybe he still loved her. But she had eyes only for Dad. I knew firsthand how heartbreaking it was to long for someone that you couldn't have. My heart went out to poor Jacob.

_Mistreated, misplaced, misunderstood  
>Miss "no way, it's all good", It didn't slow me down<em>

But it didn't matter to me how he felt about Mom, or how battered and bruised his heart was. It wouldn't stop me loving him. Nothing would ever stop me loving him – the warmth I felt in my soul from just being near him was enough. It didn't matter to me if he didn't feel the same - It wouldn't do anything to slow down these feelings I had - the feelings that I _have -_ for him.

_Mistaken, Always second guessing  
>Underestimated, Look, I'm still around<em>

Sometimes when he'd look at me, I would think I had caught a flicker of something more than just brotherly affection or friendship in his eyes. Wishful thinking on my part, I guess, because then he'd tense up or go back to being goofy old Jake. He always seemed to have a tinge of sadness though behind the twinkling eyes and the laughing smile, and my heart desperately ached to reach out and make everything okay for him. I wish he knew how much he meant to me. I wondered whether - if he could feel it, even if just for a brief moment - would it be worth anything to him to know that just by his existence, he made my otherwise inconsequential life worth living?

I needed to be closer to him. I climbed down from the bed and nestled myself in the crook of Jake's arm, my head resting against his warm chest. I loved him so much. I would always love him, always and forever – and that was saying something, considering I was immortal. I leaned in and listened to the steady sound of his beating heart, and breathed in the perfect scent of him.

_Pretty, pretty please Don't you ever, ever feel  
>Like you're less than Fuckin' perfect.<br>Pretty, pretty please If you ever, ever feel  
>Like you're nothing You're fuckin' perfect to me.<em>

I remembered with vivid clarity that first time Jake looked into my eyes. I felt something so indescribably pure and perfect burn through to my core and sear itself to my soul, before settling into the wonderful warm glow that has been there ever since. I felt so connected to the owner of those warm onyx eyes, the large russet man standing before me. I felt as though his soul had been imprinted to mine, and although at the time my feelings for him were different to how I felt now, I knew that in one way or another I had always loved my Jake.

I snuggled closer into him. I felt the love brimming to my heart's very edges, threatening to spill over, and savoured the quiet contentment he brought to my soul. I had to pull myself back, or else I might accidentally project my feelings to him– how he made me feel was beyond what any words could describe. Just knowing he was close warmed my spirit in a way that was beyond any picture that words could ever paint.

But my Jacob seemed so sad sometimes. There was so much going on beneath the surface.

_You're so mean, When you talk,  
>About yourself, You are wrong.<em>

Like sometimes when we'd go out for ice-cream and he'd say things like – 'I wish I could take you somewhere nicer, Ness'. I don't know why he'd even think that! Eating ice-cream with Jake was the best thing ever! Maybe eating ice-cream _off_ Jake would be pretty good too, I mused to myself. Huhhhrr... I really needed to get my hormones under control, or I was totally gonna lose it and jump him one of these days! I didn't know why Jacob felt he wasn't good enough. He was the Alpha, for crying out loud –you don't get much higher up the food chain than that!

I know it bugged the hell out of Jake whenever Aunt Alice bought him things, or when Mom and Dad tried to give him gifts. Like that time Dad offered to get him a new car - Jake stormed out and didn't come back for days. Dad didn't understand why he was so upset, but Mom managed to explain – she had some sympathy for Jake's perspective, especially since she had felt same way about Dad's 'generosity' in the early days. But - I thought cynically - she had obviously managed to get over it. Mom was a full Cullen now, and quite accepting of the benefits and expensive _everything_ that came with it.

The Quileutes were a proud people. They weren't wealthy in monetary terms, but were rich in so many other ways. My Jake came from a long line of proud people, and he would never take a handout from anyone. I wondered sometimes if some of that pride came from the Quileutes' inner wolves, and especially more so for Jake since he was the Alpha.

It actually took Dad sitting Jake down one day and telling him, in no uncertain terms, that he was family – and that meant sharing what was 'ours' and that he was included in the definition of 'we'.

_Change the voices, In your head  
>Make them like you Instead.<em>

Over the years, Jake and my family came to an understanding of the difference between sharing versus charity, and that accepting a gift did not automatically translate to compromising one's dignity or self-respect. But at the same time, it was understood that no insult would be intended if a gift were to be repaid.

_So complicated, Look happy, You'll make it!  
>Filled with so much hatred, Such a tired game.<em>

As long as I can remember, Jake and Dad had been friends. It's kind of weird if you think about it. They were natural enemies, but had a kind of grudging respect for each other that had settled into a quiet truce, and eventually friendship. Maybe they just got tired of playing the hate game. I even heard Dad call Jake 'son' one day. _That_ was all kinds of weird. Jake just looked a bit awkward and sheepish, and Mom had giggled. They wouldn't tell me what was so funny - it was like some kind of private joke - so I just put it down to some old-fogey humour thing. When the only answer I could get out of them was 'it's complicated, Renesmee', I decided that I was probably better off not knowing.

Jake often talked about making his own way in the world. I know he had a kind of semi-business going on - his reputation as one of the best mechanics around was bringing him customers left, right and centre. But between doing that, finishing off his university studies, patrolling, and doing whatever else it was that he did, there wasn't that much left of the 24 hours that were in a day. I mused about how he always managed to spend time with me though, even if he was busy. He was my best friend and favourite person in the whole world. I loved so much just being near him. Like how we were spending today. We were just sitting here, doing nothing. Well, Jake was drawing._ I_ was doing nothing – apart from letting my teenage hormones run rampant as usual. I looked at him, admiring the contours of his muscles through the thin fabric of his black t-shirt. Mmmm … he was so perfect, so absolutely fuckin' perfect. I wished he was mine. I snuggled in closer and played with the free hand that he wasn't using to sketch with.

_It's enough, I've done all I can think of  
>Chased down all my demons, I've seen you do the same.<em>

I know that I had my own inner demons, but it was nowhere near the darkness I sometimes sensed simmering within Jake. I knew he was dangerous, but I never felt he was a danger to me. Perhaps the darkness came from his inner wolf – the wolf was a protector, but in order to protect, it had to be as fierce and brutal, if not more so, than the enemy it was built to destroy. We had been through so much together, he and I - from the standoff with the Volturi, to the years we had spent by each others' side. He was always there for me, gentle and loving, but with an undercurrent of quiet power and strength. I felt so safe and protected when he was around.

_Pretty, pretty please Don't you ever, ever feel  
>Like you're less than Fuckin' perfect.<br>Pretty, pretty please If you ever, ever feel  
>Like you're nothing You're fuckin' perfect to me.<em>

My heart swelled with love for him. I looked at my small pale hand against his large russet one, and mused how different we were. So different, yet so very much the same. We were two halves of the same whole, yin and yang. If there were a word to describe how I felt about him, it would be that he was my soulmate. Now if only I could make him feel the same…

_The whole world stares while I swallow the fear, The only thing I should be drinking is an ice cold beer.  
>So cool in line and we try, try, try, But we try too hard, it's a waste of my time.<em>

The family would have to leave Forks soon. People were starting to talk about how Grandpa Carlisle was 'ageing quite gracefully', as one of the nurses at the hospital had put it. Based on the number of years he'd been working at the hospital, Grandpa should supposedly be in his mid-forties now, but still looked like a good-looking thirty year old.

But I would never leave my Jake. Home is wherever he was. With him, I didn't have to pretend to be something that I'm not. I would fight to stay with him. I could live on the Rez, and it wouldn't matter that I didn't age. They all knew my secret. Even if they thought I was some kind of demon spawn, I didn't care. I couldn't, wouldn't, live without Jake. Even if he didn't feel the same way about me, I would take what I could get. I'd rather exist in a shadow's promise of nothing more than friendship from him, than live away from the sunshine that was my Jake.

_Done looking for the critics, cuz they're everywhere; They don't like my jeans, they don't get my hair  
>We change ourselves and we do it all the time<em> - _Why do we do that? Why do I do that? (Why do I do that?)_

I loved Jake so much, and I would fight for him with every last breath of my being.

I didn't care if I was a freak, or if anyone thought I wasn't good enough for him.

It was time to be brave.

I put on my game face, gathered every ounce of courage I had, sat up straight and leaned in so my face was just inches away from Jake's. I felt the warmth coming off his skin, and it sent shudders through my body. For a fleeting moment, panic gripped me as I realised what I was about to do. I took a deep breath and swallowed my fear.

"Jake," I murmured.

_Pretty, pretty please Don't you ever, ever feel  
>Like you're less than Fuckin' perfect.<em>

He was engrossed in his thoughts and didn't seem to hear me. The song was fading off. I climbed into Jake's lap, facing him, and put my legs on either side of his hips. My heart was thumping erratically in my chest. I couldn't breathe. There was no turning back now.

_Pretty, pretty please If you ever, ever feel  
>Like you're nothing You're fuckin' perfect to me.<em>

"Jake," I whispered softly to him again. He looked up at me in surprise. I heard his heartbeat quicken, and saw his eyes darken as he looked into mine. I gathered up my courage, and leaned in towards him.

And then I gently touched my lips to his.

_Pretty, pretty please Don't you ever, ever feel  
>Like you're less than Fuckin' perfect.<em>

I licked the inner rim of his lips, begging for entrance. "You're perfect," I murmured against his mouth. He parted his lips, allowing me to deepen the kiss. I savoured the delicious taste of him.

_Pretty, pretty please If you ever, ever feel  
>Like you're nothing You're fuckin' perfect to me.<em>

I lifted my head and looked at his handsome face. "Jake, did you hear what I said?"

He looked a bit dazed, as he stammered "Wha…?"

Rather than trying to tell him, I decided to instead let him feel the emotions that words could never do justice to. I pressed my hand to his cheek and let the connection open up between us. I pushed through all that I felt for him. Love - overwhelming, overpowering, pure, unconditional love. His eyes widened as he took it all in.

"I said," I grinned, leaning into him again, "You're perfect. Fuckin' perfect. To me."

His strong hands pulled me in closer to him, as his mouth found mine. I thought my heart would burst from pure joy. I felt the fire of his touch, and the world suddenly felt more real to me than ever before. He rested one burning hand on the small of my back and with the other he tenderly cupped my cheek as he nuzzled my neck.

I closed my eyes and savoured his intoxicating warmth, as he murmured against my skin -

"No honey, it's _you_ that's perfect... My Ness, so perfect, to me"


End file.
